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I laugh, feeling a little relieved. It's not like anyone has said anything about commitment, but it's starting to feel a little more real than just hooking up at a party. “Am I imagining things? There’s something between us, right?”
“What do you mean?” He kisses my shoulder.
“I’m not trying to be clingy, I swear. I just feel like the way you guys are treating me is special. I think…” I swallow hard, worried about what he’s going to say but needing to make it clear so my heart doesn’t end up biker roadkill. “I think you need to tell me if this is just sex and doesn’t mean anything, because I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t want to read something into it that isn’t there.”
The way he smiles when he hears that makes my heart flip. “Nah, you aren’t imagining anything. We like you. I really fucking like you, but I think that's true for the guys as well.”
“You’re not messing around with anyone else?” I ask, staring at my hands.
“Nobody else.” He crooks his pinky around mine. “Nobody else until we see where this is going. But that goes for you, too. Me, Mack and Reaper? We have an understanding. You get the urge to scratch an itch that one of us can’t reach? Let’s just say that you hold that guy’s life in your hands because we don’t fucking share.”
“Yeah you do,” I say with a grin. “Really well, actually.”
He smacks my ass. “Smart ass, you know what I mean.”
“You’ll call if you find anything out, right?”
“You'll be the first to hear. Kiss for good luck?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, dragging me right up against his still bare chest, and kissing me like he's trying to drain my soul. He's so good at that.
And that's when Meghan walks in together with Carrie. They stop and stare. Our clothes are back on—mostly—but it’s not hard to tell that something was just happening. Cassie’s lips pull tight and she gives Meghan a look before stalking into her room.
“That’s my call to get outta here,” says Scrapper with a laugh. He winks at Meghan, then pulls his shirt over his head as he walks by. “See you soon, Mila.”
And then he's gone out the door, leaving Meghan and me to stare at each other. She points to her nipples and mouths, “Did he have…”
“Oh yeah.”
18
MILA
“Mila, are you awake?” She sits on the couch and pokes the bottom of my foot.
I curl up into a ball and glare at her from under my blanket. “That tickles!”
“Look, I’m really sorry about this but you need to speed up your apartment hunt. I’m not trying to be judgmental, but even if you lived here, we wouldn’t be thrilled about those bikers being around all the time. Carrie was pissed when we came home last night and that guy?—”
“Scrapper.”
She rolls her eyes. “Scrapper was pulling his clothes back on in our living room.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a flash of color between the cushions. It’s a condom wrapper. I make a big show of sitting up and stretching, grabbing the wrapper while I do it so she doesn’t see. I’m such a bad friend. “Yeah, I get it. I'm sorry.”
“It’s not about being sorry. We all get that it’s hard to find a good place right at the start of the semester, but you aren’t trying. When was the last time you even looked?”
She’s right, which makes me feel even worse, and I can’t even tell her everything that’s happened because it could be dangerous. Her roommates were skeptical about letting me crash here to begin with, and now I'm just making things uncomfortable and weird. “I'll find somewhere by the end of the week. I swear.”
“I hope the sex is worth it,” she mumbles.
I nibble my lip and look the other way.
“Well? Is it?”
“Oh my God. You have no idea,” I gush. “It’s like… You know how when you always buy the diet version of something and you get used to it and it’s fine, but then one day you taste the regular real one again and it’s just sooooooo much better? It’s like that, but for orgasms.”
She blinks at me, mouth slightly open. “Fuck you.”
“Excuse me? You asked!”
